


The Scent of You

by julesherondalex



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Jealousy, post acofas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 09:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20387656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesherondalex/pseuds/julesherondalex
Summary: No matter how hard Elain Archeron might love him, in the end it is left to Azriel to accept that love – and himself.





	The Scent of You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a little something I wrote - hope you don't find it too dramatic to enjoy 😂

The first time Elain had felt jealousy over anyone, she wasn’t even aware to name it as such. The feeling overcoming her was one of uneasiness, like a spike buckling under the pressure of heavy disappointment.

It was the day after Solstice, the late morning following her long night talking to the spymaster. She had been sitting in her garden; though too cold for her to be gardening, Elain pondered over the plans she’d shown Azriel only hours ago, thinking about his clever suggestions concerning some architectural setups, and maybe also about the way he had stayed up to listen to her until dawn.

Just then she found the male on her mind walking out of the town house, donned in his dark leathers once again rather than the elegant clothes from the past evening.

Elain remembered the pleasant spark of excitement at seeing his face, eagerly thinking that he would surely stop by and she’d thank him for his ideas, and maybe engage him in conversation; for as much as he seemed like the silent, stoic male, Elain knew he enjoyed talking to her.

But when his eyes landed on the seer he seemed to tense, and the only response to her presence was a polite but reserved nod in her direction.

Elain recalled the smile slipping from her face in confusion, replaced by a frown when the reason for his distance emerged from the house, wearing a bright smile with her golden hair unrestrained.

Right then, Elain’s excitement had twisted into disappointment without the female recognizing _what_ she was feeling.

Remarkably, the second time Elain witnessed jealous-ridden emotion was once again in the presence of the dark-haired Illyrian, completely catching her off-guard with its intensity. 

That happened to be months later, during the summer when she’d been striding through Velaris, attending its various markets with Azriel by her side.

Everything had been perfect since the day before, when Elain had gone picnicking with the male who had slowly but surely become her best friend. Their day spent together had been so incredibly amazing and in tune, Elain felt carelessly happy and hopeful for this infinite life of her own.

She had sensed Azriel feeling the same way in his lazy smiles, in the sass of his gentle teasing, and found one day wasn’t enough. 

So she’d tagged him along on her trip through the city, at ease within his shadows and his ever stoic company. Secretly, Elain delighted in his brooding for she knew when they were alone, the _real_ Az resurfaced – the Az who remained within the realm of shades in the presence of strangers.

Elain soon found there were many others being indeed appreciative of his gloomy sternness; his uncanny handsome looks surely being what attached the females’ stares to him. But only when they occurred to stand by a booth of magical items, and the owner – a female of exceptional beauty – unabashedly flirted with her friend, devouring him with her eyes, did Elain feel the fiery spike of jealousy slam through her chest. 

She could have been breathing fire at the insolence of it all, never minding the reasons behind her sudden jealousy.

_He’s my friend after all_, she’d soothed her agitated mind, all the while keeping her eyes to the female who didn’t even bother with Elain’s presence.

She could have been fine with that, with her jealous-ridden anger all the same, would have even forgotten about it the next day – hadn’t she noticed Azriel’s response to the female. 

Elain wished to this day to unsee the change in his expression, the predator looming behind those features. That was the first time she heard her heart crack.

She didn’t bother thinking about where he spent the night.

But today? Today was the worst of all.

Months and months later, Elain finally knew what had been coursing through her veins ever since that first time seeing Az together with Mor. She knew what had nurtured under her skin and bones, where her devotion laid, whom her heart long belonged to. 

She knew all this and cursed herself for it, cursed her fragile heart for falling for the seemingly cold Illyrian who had no idea that his words and eyes, his gentle touches and kind soul was more than enough for her. 

She cursed herself for going along with the Inner Circle, agreeing to a night of dancing and drinking, well-knowing she found no pleasure in losing herself like that but still participating because Azriel would too. 

She cursed herself for being stuck to the bar and watching the male she loved smile at another, leaving her completely abandoned there while everything had been different just yesterday.

Yesterday, when she had dared to kiss him for the first time and … he'd kissed her back. 

He'd claimed her so passionately Elain _knew_ he felt all the wonders she'd been entranced by for months. That what lurked in them, twinning by fate, was so strong, the pull could be felt all around.

If it were for their family, Elain and Azriel, the inseparable friends, her light to his shadow, would probably be a married couple already. 

Whatever held them back, Elain had had enough of it. She'd stolen his kiss and he'd given it to her. Freely and unrestricted, as if his lips were made to press to hers. 

Elain was flying, wings grown and soaring through the sky, since yesterday. Falling for Azriel had been as easy as slipping into a warm bed, as easy as smelling her blossoms in the spring air, until Elain wondered whether it'd ever stop. 

Plunging from happiness in the clouds to the steady, hard ground was all hurting. Seeing him run and keep her at arm's length the only way he knew how … nothing had ever hurt as much. 

It made her wonder if it was her, in some way. If she'd scared him with her love. 

She forced her eyes to him another time and burned from the inside out, seeing the female's hands on him, the touch scorching her mind and heart. 

_Enough_, she thought, as her eyes dragged to his face – wan and sick, despite that smile on his lips, so unlike how he'd looked at her when they'd kissed. 

And again, _enough_, as his eyes found hers as if feeling her simple stare on him instantly. 

The precise moment they shared staring at each other over the head of the female – both sickened to their bones – gave her the rest. 

She dashed out of there, into the dark night, hoping to be able to breathe again. 

That breath remained stuck in her lungs as she heard his voice following her a few moments later. 

His presence would follow her anywhere, whether _he_ did or didn't. 

“Elain.”

She forced herself to pick up pace as she crossed the bridge over the Sidra. Was solitude too much to ask when she needed it for once? Elain couldn't remember a time when she hadn't wanted to be in Azriel's presence. 

“Elain, please,” he begged, voice choked. “Stop.”

She didn't know what it was that made her whirl around to him, barely containing the emotions written on every plane of her face. The fact he seemed infinitely miserable even though it was _him_ who'd just broken her heart – or because she still cared for his hurt, still wanted to make it go away. Because she still loved to love him. 

But seeing his face … nothing was harder to look at than at him while he was so obviously warring with himself, with the pain and fear. And _damn_ her, because she got it.

She knew him and knew what was going on inside that brain of his. Knew how he was scared of letting go into that free fall for her; how he loved to hurt himself because _that_ was something he was familiar with. How he kept pain his prisoner to be reminded over and over again of all the things he had to lose. 

As if hurting all the time was acceptable. 

As if he wasn't allowed to have nice things. 

“_What do you want from me?_” she hurled the words at him and watched him take it like a slap to the face. 

“I'm … I don't know. But please don't run from me.”

Even looking at the panic in his expression hurt. Since when had loving gotten so painful? Elain clenched her hand above her chest, over that thing which had been her heart but was a knotted, sore piece of muscle now. 

“I'm not running. And I thought you wouldn't too, this time. But I was wrong.”

Az seemed stuck into place. 

_Take a step_, Elain thought, _just one goddamn step in my direction and I'll be leaping the rest. Tell me you won't run and I'll let myself fall first. _

She'd do that for him. She'd do almost anything for him. Anything but disrespecting her love and person. She'd done enough of that, enough for a lifetime. 

But even as he apologized, even as he pleaded her not to hate him, Azriel remained where he was, literally and figuratively. It was not enough.

“I'm so sorry, Elain. Please don't leave.”

“And then what? Be stuck at arm's length forever? I'm not strong enough to bear that, Azriel. I'm not you. I can't even bear to smell her on you right now. I won't do that to myself.”

Her words hit mark as he stood there but she heard his walls crumble to the ground. He let his head fall and grasped the white moon stone of the bridge. 

Elain wasn't Azriel, who had let himself be treated so poorly by Mor. Who had decided to stick to the female, well-knowing she wouldn't love him back the way he wished to. Mor, unable to handle his love, had kept him at arm's length by sleeping with different males and letting him know. 

Elain wasn't going to put herself into his position. 

“I'm _so_ sorry,” he whispered. 

And for some reason she knew he was apologizing for himself. Because he was _he_ and not someone else. She couldn't stand it. 

“Tell me, Azriel, is it so wrong of me to love you? To want to be with you?” 

Elain thought his eyes would either snap to her own, they would forget all of this and he'd finally _see_ how much she loved him for him and would never stray from his side.

Or his head would hang even lower, for he could not bear to be loved like that. 

He did neither. He just stood there, unmoving and trying to hold it together. 

“Nothing is wrong with you,” was all he said, voice shaking.

“But something’s wrong with you?” Azriel flinched. “Is that what you’re thinking?” 

He swallowed hard and finally, _finally_, met her gaze. 

“You don't understand. You don't see yourself the way I do. You're … You are perfect. You are kind, generous, loving, funny and so … _pure_. You are everything I have never dared to wish for. You are everything, and I am just … I am just me. To think I deserved you is laughable.”

Elain couldn't move for dear life to break the silence. Only after mastering the lump in her throat and the tears springing to her eyes, she took that damn step herself. 

“Have you ever considered that _just you_ is more than enough for me? That I would always choose you?” 

Az just kept looking at her like he was being torn from the inside. Her love – teeth out, knives sharpened and swords raised – warring against that bitter, trained self-loathing. 

He didn't think she knew what she was saying. Didn't think she'd stay once getting close enough to see all his broken parts. 

But she saw them already, and look where it left her. Fighting for his love. 

Though she couldn't make him accept _her_ love. That was something he would have to do by himself. 

“I'm not going to beg you to let me love you. Take it or leave it, Az. It's up to you.”

Before she took a leave, knowing he wouldn't follow her this time, Elain decided to make one more thing clear, no matter the tears running down her cheeks now. 

“And don't you dare calling my choice laughable. It's mine, after all and you don’t get to decide who I might or might not deserve. You don’t get to take that choice from me.” 

When she left, both of them broken and fractured, Elain could only do so much to convince herself her heart was still beating inside her chest. 

She put those teeth and knives and swords down and hoped for the best.

***

When the seer and the shadowsinger met again, it was raining. 

Elain tried not to slip and fall on the wet Velarisian streets, although it didn't help her dress was soaked to the seams. She would surely need to plead one of the twins for a cup of hot chocolate. Chocolate always helped with rain and heartbreak. 

Just like she'd always done, Elain Archeron sensed Azriel as soon as he stepped to their realm. 

She stopped in her tracks, water splashing from her feet as she came face to face with the male who had broken her heart. And still it beat like crazy feeling him, as if to say _now_, _there you are. _

If Elain needed any proof of her hearts' existence, well, there it was. 

“Hey.” 

It was so hard to look at him, to hear his soft voice, and not tear down those walls she'd built in the past few days of not seeing him. 

He looked bad. Probably as bad as she felt inside – worn and sick and kind of helpless. 

And he was instantly drenched, too. Hair sticking to his face and leathers to his body. Azriel didn't seem to notice though, didn't shiver or freeze. He just kept looking at her. 

Elain's breathing halted when she realized he _looked_ at her as if truly seeing her. The confidence in which his eyes didn't stray from her own made it very hard to think. 

“Hello,” she breathed then. 

He looked at her as if he allowed himself to see her. Oh, Gods help her. She could barely leash her heart from unbinding from her chest, slinging around its owner.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke softly, his eyes caressing her face. Elain’s heart skipped a beat, despite everything.

“I’m soaked.”

He smiled a little. “And still beautiful.”

His eyes would most certainly be the death of her. To avoid crumbling right then and there, Elain let her gaze explore his features.

“Well, you look … tired.”

Azriel dragged a hand through his drenched hair, smoothing it back from his face, enhancing the sharpness in his jaw and those high cheekbones.

“I haven’t slept much these days. Especially after Mor and Cassian kept talking my ears off about what an idiot I am.”

“They might be right,” Elain found herself saying and couldn’t help the small tugging of her lips.

“I am most certainly an idiot.”

And that was that. They remained standing in the middle of the street, rain pouring from the clouds as if relieved these two had finally met again. Elain thought she shared the sentiment.

Because that thing in her chest – that dangerous, dangerous hope was trashing in its cage.

Then he took a step closer. One, two, three – until suddenly the rain couldn’t reach them anymore due to the shield he had remembered to throw above them. It muted most of the sound, though the splatter of rain still reached their ears. Elain looked up to find a cobalt hue shimmering all around them.

“I want to apologize to you, Elain,” Azriel spoke, closer than a second ago. That shield of his made her feel like they were the only ones walking this world.

“I hurt you, and I hurt you bad. I’m so incredibly sorry.”

Elain didn’t want to hear apologies, didn’t want him to feel _sorry_. But then again, she _was_ hurt and his words always helped.

“I was scared shitless and stupid,” Az continued. “By doing what I did, again and again, I tried to save you from myself in my own wrecked way. I should have known better though, because it’s your choice. It has always been your choice. You were right from the start. And if you still want me, who am I to deny you?”

Still, he kept making himself smaller but this was a start. This was the step she had kept waiting for. 

Now Azriel was close enough that she had to tilt her head up to look into his honest eyes.

“Please, forgive me. Let me make it up to you,” he pleaded with her, quietly. 

“How?” was all Elain mustered.

“I will make you so damn happy, Elain,” he began with such conviction one of the bars caging her hope snapped in two.

“I know I can. You told me to take it or leave it, so I decided. If you'll have me, I am willing to try. For you, I'd do anything, be anyone.” Two bars. Three. Her heart was a living, wild thing and it begun leaping against its confinement.

“Who do you want me to be? How will you have me? I'll give it my all.”

It was only natural her tongue unleashed without her doing. Only natural she was coming alive now. Not taking her eyes from his, she shook her head.

“‘You’ is enough. I just want you as you are. That’s the only thing I ever wanted.”

Azriel exhaled through the nose and closed the distance between them, resting his head against her brow. “You had me from the start.”

She couldn’t quite believe he was here, and giving himself so easily to her. As if he had finally realized there was no escaping them, that she was a part of him. Elain brought her hands to his chest and inhaled his scent into her lungs – and halted.

“You … you smell like…” Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled again. 

“Like you?” he mumbled, the sweetest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Elain refrained from whining out a cry of protest as he pulled back a little, reaching into his leathers.

A piece of blush pink fabric appeared in his hand, her initials printed in golden, curved letters on the soft handkerchief. Courtesy of Mor, the ever terrible giver of gifts.

But it was Elain’s, her scent clinging to every fiber, and she’d thought she would never find Mor’s gift again after losing it a couple months ago. Apparently she hadn’t lost it at all.

“I missed your scent on me,” Azriel admitted.

And somehow, this burst the remaining cell inside her chest. Hope and heart triumphed as love flooded her entire being. Tears welled up because _yes_, she had missed his, too. And she so clearly remembered the hurt of smelling another female on him. _I can't even bear to smell her on you_, she’d spat and meant it.

As if reading her mind, Azriel gulped. 

“That night, I couldn't get home fast enough. I scrubbed until I couldn't smell myself anymore.

“But your scent–” he grazed his shaking finger over a strand of her hair – “Your scent is like a drug to me. Especially combined with mine. That's how I love my scent best.” 

“Azriel,” she pleaded his name, raw and gravelly. It was almost too much.

He took one final step. “I love your scent, El. I love _you_. I love you so much I scared myself. But I’m done being scared. I only want you by my side for as long as I can think, and beyond.” 

As he confessed, his shield began to waver, and a few drops of water rained on them, making it impossible to discern her tears.

Elain looked toward the sky, heart lodged in her throat, as Azriel kept his eyes focused on her. She breathed – for her hope had aimed true after all. 

Her caramel met his hazel; a static in the air.

“Let us combine then. My scent and I and everything that I am – it’s all yours to love.”

Their love was a palpable thing then and there. It was in the rain on their skin, the press of their hands and the air in their lungs – making one out of two. An entity.

And in the moment just before their lips connected – that last moment Elain could still think until his mouth evaporated every single thought to thin air – the only thing remaining on her mind was:

_Love wins, at last. With teeth and knives and swords. With pain and tears and rainy days._

_With hope, and all._


End file.
